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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28036206">the war of the clowns</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/identifies_as_an_anxious_mess/pseuds/identifies_as_an_anxious_mess'>identifies_as_an_anxious_mess</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ronald mcdonald - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>??? - Freeform, Clowns, Crack Treated Semi-Seriously, War, War i guess, at least one of the characters goes by they/them, i don’t really like state it a lot but that’s just how they’re referred to, like a lot of clowns, oh yeah um implied/referenced drug use, ronald mcdonald - Freeform, so if you don’t like that please go away</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:00:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>615</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28036206</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/identifies_as_an_anxious_mess/pseuds/identifies_as_an_anxious_mess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Onwards and onwards, the clowns marched. Days started to blur together, and before long they almost forgot what had driven them to want to fight. Almost. They remembered their families, friends, and everything they loved back home. As they remembered their homes, everything was tinted red from the tyranny of their enemy, and the freedom they deserved pushed them to keep going.</p>
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</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the war of the clowns</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ok so<br/>this basically just me shitting around <br/>but like it’s about clowns<br/>and them attacking kfc or “the worshippers of the chicken”<br/>i guess this is crack treated seriously?? but uh yea just go with it please </p><p>🚨 tw: implied/referenced drug use</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ronald could feel it. The want. The overpowering need. The craving he couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard he tried. It was a feeling which made his whole body tremble uncontrollably the longer he resisted it. <br/>His arm, acting almost of it’s own accord, reached for the syringe.</p><p>“March on to victory! No longer shall we be slaves to the chicken!”<br/>Thousands of identical clowns roared. For so long they had been fighting for the chance to live, and now, here was their chance. Their chance to not only survive, but to show the world what they could do. The beauty they could create. They would defeat the chicken and all its worshippers, and finally restore peace to the world. </p><p>Onwards and onwards, the clowns marched. Days started to blur together, and before long they almost forgot what had driven them to want to fight. Almost. They remembered their families, friends, and everything they loved back home. As they remembered their homes, everything was tinted red from the tyranny of their enemy, and the freedom they deserved pushed them to keep going.</p><p>As the sun set for the sixth time since they’d began their journey, three of the youngest clowns snuck away from the group which was just settling down for the night.<br/>“This better be important,” hissed the smallest clown, Ronaldina, “If Mr. Mcdonald finds us out here he’ll have our skins!” <br/>“You worry too much” one of the other clowns, Roneldrick , stated, “And anyway, didn’t he say he preferred Ronald? Being called Mr. Mcdonald makes him feel old.”<br/>“Shut it you two.” snapped the third clown, Ronmirco, “We can talk when we get there.”<br/>The trio continued in silence, and varying degrees of worry, until they got to a secluded area, quite a long way off from the clown’s camp. </p><p>“Now,” Ronmirco said, with as much authority as he could muster, “You two are the only clowns here who clearly have no idea how to fight. So, obviously, you won’t be much help once we begin our battle.”<br/>Ronaldina and Roneldrick let out twin gasps of indignation, and began to protest, before being quietened by Ronmirco’s glare.<br/>“As I was saying,” he continued, “Let’s say, hypothetically, we were attacked in the night, or we left for battle tomorrow, there’s nothing you could do. Neither of you are worth keeping around otherwise, as you can’t even cook. So, this leaves us with two options. The first one being leaving you out in the middle of nowhere and you getting eaten by wolves. This option may seem preferable to me, but it’s not as, well, humane. The other option left is that I teach you how to fight. This would mean that you have to get up an hour earlier and go to sleep an hour later everyday to train, and you have to make sure to improve as quickly as possible. It’s going to be brutal, but there’s always the option of leaving you to the wolves.”<br/>Ronaldina and Roneldrick stared at the other clown, stunned. It took them a few moments to process everything he had just said, but finally, the penny dropped.<br/>“You were going to feed us to wolves?” Ronaldina asked, their voice shaking slightly.<br/>“What?? What the hell ‘Mirco? So you’re gonna train us or some shit then? Like you have the skill for that. For one thing you’re skinnier than a twig.” Roneldrick was promptly flipped over backwards after finishing what he said, no longer having any doubts about Ronmirco’s skills as a fighter. None that he’d voice anyway, especially not whilst still being sprawled in the dirt.<br/>“Unless you have any more objections, your first lesson begins now.”</p>
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